


Knights Never Die

by rulanarinrush



Category: Fire Emblem Series, Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, F!Byleth, Fire Emblem: Three Houses Blue Lions Route Spoilers, Hurt No Comfort, M/M, Spoilers for Ingrid and Bernadetta's support, mentions of Bernadetta
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-18
Updated: 2019-08-18
Packaged: 2020-09-06 10:09:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,063
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20289727
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rulanarinrush/pseuds/rulanarinrush
Summary: Their nights together are nothing personal. Heavy Blue Lions route spoilers.





	Knights Never Die

**Author's Note:**

> I originally didn't want to post this, but the 3H server encouraged me, so here. Warning for spoilers once again.
> 
> Disclaimer: I own nothing.

Sylvain lets out a shaky breath. It’s over. They’ve won, somehow. The only banners left on the field are blue, proudly displaying the victory of the kingdom. 

At the southern end of Gronder Field is Dimitri, wild, bloodthirsty Dimitri, being held back by Felix with the professor approaching from behind.

“Let me go,” the prince growls. “I have to go, I have to go after her—”

“Shut up, you stupid boar,” Felix growls back, clearly struggling to maintain his grip. “We’ve just taken back Gronder Field. You really think we can chase the emperor into her own territory now?”

A rush of nostalgia engulfs Sylvain. This is how its always been; even now, five years later, they still don’t see eye to eye.  
As children, they didn’t always get along. There would always be fights and cruel words, but they would always end with new adventures and a long scolding from Ingrid, on the occasion that they didn’t end up including her in their shenanigans. Just three boys and a girl, and—

—Wait, was that girl always there?

His thoughts are interrupted by a shrill shriek. “You filthy monster! It’s time to die!” the girl screams, blade in hand, heading straight for the prince.

Sylvain’s heart leaps out of his chest, and he’s sprinting before he can even think, because gods, he’s not going to make it in time—

“Dimitri!” Is all that Sylvain hears, and a flash of blue steps between Dimitri and the blade.

His brother had tried to drown him, once. He'd thrown him into a freezing lake, where the creeping tendrils of death dragged him below the surface and the water froze his lungs and body.

His brother didn’t succeed. But right now, he’s drowning. He can’t breathe.

“Felix!”

He can faintly hear screaming behind him as he skids into the mud, cradling Felix’s head in his lap. It’s only when he’s on the ground that he realizes the screaming was coming from him. Both their breaths are coming in quick and shallow. 

It only takes the professor seconds to cut down the girl. She screams and collapses into a bloody heap, begging for something, but Sylvain takes no notice of it. All he sees is the head resting on his lap, pale and shaking, holding onto its last threads of life.

“No, no, no,” Sylvain can faintly hear the prince babble. It sounds like he’s underwater. “Don’t die, Felix, don’t die....”

“Damn it, boar,” Felix sputters weakly. “Don’t look at me like that.” 

All Sylvain can focus on is the way the smaller man’s blood clumps and dances spider lilies across his armor, and the slowing rise and fall of his chest. Felix’s blood is soaking into the ground, through his armor, into him. Sylvain feels like he’s obtained a mirror wound.

“Sylvain,” Felix gasps. “Do you remember our promise? Could you... could you tell me it one more time?” 

Yeah,” Sylvain forces out. “Yeah, okay. I promise not to die without you Felix. After all,” he chokes out. Surprisingly, his tears don’t fall. “Knights never die.”

Felix doesn’t promise in back in return.

* * *

_He’s fourteen and Felix is twelve, before they are swept away by the world, before the goddess abandons them. Sylvain’s limbs are long and awkward now, reaching too long for a boy his size. It’s also the first time he’s ever been dumped by a girl._

_“Felix,” Sylvain whines, hanging off the side of Felix’s shoulder. “Felix, my girlfriend dumped meeee.”_

__

_“I don’t suppose that not cheating would help,” Felix quips back, gently pushing Sylvain off his. Long before Glenn passed, Felix had already been picking up his habits._

__

_Sylvain fake sniffles. “Yeah, but this is the first time a girl has ever dumped me. I’ve dumped lots of girls before, but I’ve never been dumped,” Sylvain cries dramatically. “How am I supposed to go on?”_

__

_Felix just rolls his eyes in response. “If you have the time to pick up girls, we should spar.”_

__

_“Spar? Now?” Sylvain laughs. “Relax. The knighthood exams are at least 3 years away for you. If anything, we should get you a girlfriend.”_

__

_“What’s so good about girls anyway?” Felix grumbles, his hand brushing a rack of swords. _

__

_“Well, all girls are beautiful, of course. Kissing their soft lips is like treasuring some rare jewel. Their lips are soft like rose petals. And they make such great company.”_

__

_“You’re just saying that because you like to toy with their feelings.”_

__

_“True! Absolutely true,” Sylvain responds, without a hint of shame in his voice. “I wasn’t lying about their lips, though. Kisses are especially nice.”_

__

_“What’s it like?” Felix asks, curiosity in his voice. “Kissing, I mean.” _

__

_Sylvain chuckles. “That’s a little harder to explain. It’s just a really nice feeling with two lips touching. If you’d like, I can show you.”_

__

_“Okay,” Felix answers._

__

__

_Sylvain blinks. “Okay?” He repeats, clearly not expecting that answer._

__

__

_“I said okay, just make it quick.” The edges of Felix’s ears are pink now. “I trust you.”_

__

__

_Sylvain grins wolfishly. Too innocent “Well alright then,” Sylvain says, bringing his lips to meet his shorter friend’s._

__

__

_Felix’s lips are soft, softer than the lips of any of the girls he’s ever kissed before. His lips are sweet, like nectar falls from his mouth, and drenches the world in a soft pink that matches the color of lips. For some reason, Sylvain makes the kiss linger a little longer than he should, drawing out the moment. _

__

__

_Then, Felix says something he never thought he’d ever hear, from him of all people._

__

__

_“That was nice,” Felix says. Sylvain’s heart soars in response, going places that he can never reach._

__

__

_It’s only until years pass that Sylvain realizes he took Felix’s first kiss._

* * *

The vigil is a quiet affair. Dimitri is noticeably absent, but what stands out to Sylvain more is his professor. She looks disheveled and her eyes are rubbed raw, her eyes adorned with red rims.

“Sylvain,” she beckons. Her voice is noticeably hoarse. “I’m sorry.”

Byleth looks tired, Sylvain notices again. For the first time, Sylvain understands what his professor must be feeling. She has lost both a father and a child. They will always be her children, in her eyes.

“I could have saved him,” Byleth croaks, her voice raw with grief. “But when I thought about how my father died, I couldn’t move. I just couldn’t. Before I realized it, it was too late.”

Sylvain doesn’t really understand what she means. But he knows that she’s placing more burdens on herself then she needs to in this goddessforsaken war.

“It wasn’t your fault,” Sylvain replies. Every minute, this gets harder. “It was that girl’s fault. No one else’s. You can’t blame yourself, professor.” 

Byleth sniffles. “Yes, I suppose so. I just—I guess I just hold onto things longer than I should.”

Sylvain knows a thing or two about that.

* * *

_“You’re angry today,” Felix comments. Sylvain’s mouth is exploring his between breaths, in the dead of night on Sylvain’s bed._

__

__

_Sylvain just grunts in response. He knows better than to try to lie to Felix, but he just says, “A girl left me today.”_

__

__

_Felix just sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Sylvain you’ve used this excuse a thousand times before,” Felix sounds far too exasperated. “If we’re going to do this tonight, I won’t have you acting like the boar all night. Denying your problems and then turning into an animal.”_

__

__

_That’s not a comparison that Sylvain is particularly fond of. “Alright, alright,” Sylvain replies, taking a break from the one-sided makeout. “I really did leave a girl. She found me, er, hanging out with some other girl,” Felix half-heartedly smacks his arm at that. “I let it slip a few months ago that I had a brother. As a joke, that is,” Had is a very strong word now. “I’m surprised she still remembers,” He lets out a shaky exhale. “She told me that if I really did have a brother, he’d probably be better.”_

__

__

_For all the acid that can fall out of Felix’s mouth when he speaks, Felix knows exactly how to comfort Sylvain in this situation. There are no words exchanged, they both know that anything Felix could say wouldn’t help, for more reasons than one. They both know why this hurts, and how this ends._

__

__

_That night, Sylvain takes his time figuring out how high the collar of the Felix’s uniform goes. The night is a little more personal than usual._

* * *

__

__

The funeral takes place the next day. It takes every bit of his strength to be there, but he still finds the strength to go there. Ingrid is sitting next to him, her posture even more pristine then usual, but her eyes are weary and dull.

“Don’t look at him,” Ingrid starts, using her thumb to draw circles into Sylvain’s hand. “It’s bad luck.”

Sylvain doesn’t think he’s ever heard that one before, but he trusts Ingrid. In truth, he doesn’t know if he can do it. He wants to see Felix one last time, bad luck be damned.

The funeral is a blur, afterwards. Even now, days later, he still can’t process the idea of Felix being gone. He’s always been there. Always.

He can’t help himself. When it’s his turn, he places the lily next to Felix’s face and he takes a peek. Felix looks the same as always. Dreamy, even. His hair is pressed into the casket like a dark blue halo. He is the very image of an angel, with a peaceful expression and such pale, pale skin.

He then looks to Ingrid. She’s staring at him, entranced by him too.

* * *

_It’s the night of the ball and the world is eerily peaceful. So peaceful in fact, that Felix is dancing, and dancing with Dimitri, of all people. _

__

__

_“You’re surprisingly tame tonight,” Ingrid says, interrupting his thoughts. “Not going to dance with some poor, unsuspecting girl?”_

__

__

_“Nah,” Sylvain answers. “I’m too fascinated by what’s happening. How on all of Fodlan did Dimitri convince Felix of all people to dance with him?” _

__

__

_It is a rare sight to behold. Felix, the lone wolf of the Blue Lions, in dancing with his boar and being surprisingly civil at the same time. He certainly doesn’t look like he’s enjoying it, with his sour face and muttering something unintelligible from here, but it gets a laugh out of Dimitri as they circle the ballroom together._

__

__

_“Something about Dimitri continuously pestering him for a dance, I hear,” Ingrid answers. “Apparently he somehow got the professor in on it, so that’s that. I’m going to get something to eat. You should dance, too.”_

__

__

_He really should be dancing like Ingrid said, but he’s more focused on drinking in the sight of Dimitri and Felix dancing together._

__

__

_Sylvain has dreamed of Felix before, of the way he fights with such clean and elegant strokes, but his dreams pale in comparison to the real thing. Dimitri is elegant too, but it is a practiced elegance that took years of training. His steps exude power, hard and stable. Felix’s steps are delicate in comparison, the kind that makes roses bloom from the ground which he steps on. He moves like the midnight ocean, a royal blue expanse of beauty that belied its danger and depth._

__

__

_There’s a look in Dimitri’s eye that he hasn’t seen in a long time. Sylvain makes a mental note to try to convince Felix to interact with the prince more often, even if it’s just for a spar._

__

__

_He never does get that chance._

* * *

__

__

Whatever happened between Byleth and Dimitri the other night, it was for the better. Dimitri is surprisingly presentable now, and his gaze has softened, less fixated on revenge. Sylvain doesn’t know what happened to the monster wearing his face, but he’s glad that it’s gone.

“I think,” Dimitri starts, turning his gaze away from Sylvain. “That I was in love with him. Or used to be.” 

“Oh,” Sylvain forces out. He’s always had his suspicions, of course. Dimitri may have been the prince, but out of everyone in their group of childhood friends, Felix was always the star. Somehow, both he and Dimitri were fixated on him. In truth, Sylvain had always been jealous of the wholehearted attention that Felix used to give Dimitri, relegating Sylvain to simply a source of comfort.

He knows, now, that one should be happy with what they have. Something within him is sickeningly delighted that Felix’s last words had been reserved for him, not the prince.

Dimitri twists a white lily in his hand. “I do wish that I’d realized sooner. But I don’t think he would’ve been able to accept those feelings.” He pauses. “Do you wish I had died instead, Sylvain?”

Sylvain had had a whole speech prepared before. Something about it not being Dimitri’s fault, something about this being something Felix would do for him many more times, even though he’d never been asked to. But it doesn’t come out. It’s stuck in his throat and wants to remain there and wither.

“Nah,” Sylvain responds instead, the edge of his voice something desperate. “I wish I had died instead.”

* * *

_“Reckless,” Felix scowls. “What were you thinking? Taking that wound for me…”_

__

__

_Sylvain just laughs mirthlessly in response. “Yeah, well—” His response is cut off by a choked moan when Felix presses his hands against the bleeding wound. “I can’t have you dying while I’m around.”_

__

__

_“You’re so stupid,” Felix mumbles, using his glove as an immediate bandage for Sylvain’s wound. “Don’t go dying without me.”_

* * *

__

__

“What are you doing?” 

Ingrid jumps, barely catching the candle in her hand. "Sylvain!”

“Sorry, sorry,” Sylvain apologizes. “What are you doing with that candle?”

“I was praying for Bernadetta,” Ingrid inhales. “No one has made a grave for her yet.”

“Oh,” Sylvain breathes. Everything still feels so far away. 

“Even if she was our enemy, she was still our classmate. She deserves to be honored, in a way.”

She did. For a girl so skittish and constantly terrified, she died like warrior, never leaving her position atop the ballista, with only her last words as proof of her true feelings. Even as her blood painted the hill, she refused to give the Kingdom or Alliance any space to breathe. Sylvain still remembers the way her body slumped over, the pale fog of death clouding her eyes.

“She had really come so far from her academy days,” Ingrid muses, her eyes still on the candle. “I once had to break her door down to get her to come to training.”

“You-you what?” 

“Yes. Those days are so far away now. She used to be so terrified of battle. And now,” Ingrid closes her eyes. “This is the result. The way she died-“

“You’d better not say it.”

“I won’t, Sylvain.”

_She died like a true knight._

* * *

_“No more kissing,” Felix mutters._

__

__

_Sylvain’s hand brushes the side of Felix’s face. “I’m sorry?”_

__

__

_“No more kissing,” Felix repeats. “At least on the lips, anyway. Too Personal.”_

__

__

_“Got it. No more kissing on the lips,” Sylvain says, tracing the curve of Felix’s shoulder. “Afraid of what you’re missing out on?” he adds._

__

__

_Felix rolls his eyes. “Believe it or not Sylvain, not everyone can let go of attachments as easy as you.”_

__

__

_Five years later, Sylvain would disagree._

* * *

__

__

“Thank you for coming to visit,” Rodrigue smiles. He’s standing before a marble grave, decorated with bright, delicate flowers that didn’t suit the person resting below.

“No problem,” Sylvain answers, placing his own bouquet of flowers by the grave. In truth, he’s been running away for far too long. He still doesn’t know if he’ll ever be ready to face his broken promises, and the man before him makes it so much harder. The father really did look all too much like his son.

“I’m glad Felix had friends like you,” Rodrigue says, shifting his gaze towards the gravestone. “Do you remember the first time you two had a fight?”

The edges of Sylvain’s mouth tremble at the memory. In truth, Sylvain remembers very little about the incident, having been nearly a decade and a half ago, but he can vaguely remember Felix’s tiny fists bawling up and tears that he used to think were adorable.

“He came home crying to me,” Rodrigue mentions. “I don’t think he ever told me he was sorry, but he told me he was so scared of losing you.” Sylvain doesn’t think he wants to hear anymore. “He said you were like a second big brother to him.”

Silence looms over the area. There’s nothing more that Sylvain can say. The only words uttered are the words created by the ghosts through the winds of the graveyard.

Did he know?” Rodrigue questions, his voice barely a whisper. “Did Felix, my son, did he know that I loved him?”

Sylvain’s instinct is to reassure him. Of course, he wants to say. He loved you. You were his father after all.

But Sylvain, for all the masks he wears, has never been good at lying. His silence is enough of an answer.

“Goddess,” Rodrigue is doing most of the crying for him. “I’m so sorry, Felix. I’m so sorry.”

The gravestone doesn’t chide him back.

* * *

_Every time that they indulge in each other’s company at night, it always ends the same. One leaves the other’s room before dawn can rise._

__

__

_Sylvain’s dreams are very much the same. It always starts with Felix, and it always end with him._

__

__

_“Wait,” Sylvain calls. “Don’t go.”_

__

__

_Felix’s hands clench into fists. “I would if you left those girls.” He doesn’t look back._

* * *

__

__

The war comes and goes. Peace returns to the land. And Sylvain’s indulging in his dream right now. 

Sylvain presses kisses into his deep blue locks, that curl and snake up his wrists. Something is wrong. His hair has never been that long, and his laughter has never been that cheerful.

“Darling,” Sylvain breathes. There are children playing from behind the door. “Do you remember our promise?” 

“Our promise?” he looks puzzled. “Oh. You mean this,” he says, pointing to his ring. “Yes. I promise to be with you until we die.”

The image fades away. It’s not Felix in front of him. It’s a beautiful woman pressed down into the sheets under him.

“Yeah, something like that.”

**Author's Note:**

> All kudos, comments, and criticisms are appreciated! If there are any mistakes, let me know.
> 
> Once again, thank you to the 3H server.


End file.
